Saturday, October 31, 2009
250 sec with Mallika Sherawat
Going to college is like a battle for me which I always rosily look forward to lose. One fine morning when the sun was beating its hammer on the anvil of the land, I fully equipped my arsenal and took the chariot(yeah the red color minibus) for the battlefield. As the chariot wheels started trolling a gentleman sitting in-front of me ushered his seat to a ravishing 31st century girl(you will never find a 21st century girl in my area divulging her cleave as big as palk strait). Cursing my fluke or rather disappointed at the prima facie, I stared at my fellow gentleman with the slightest hope that had he done that philanthropy I would have benefited him with the chariots fare. As I was trying to consolidate my deviated focus to the locus ahead, my harbinger rang “aahun aahun”. It was one of my classmate saurav who reminded me that we have to submit internetworking report file. His voice was so profound that I almost came back to 21st century. The phone call resurrected my garden of dirty thoughts from the palk strait straight to the battlefield within nano-seconds. I challenged my intellectual and as usual it began transporting notions to rationalize.The thought of what-excuses-can-be-made” perpetually floated through the lush green garden of my mind until I reached the battlefield.
As I was looking for a rickshaw saifu sang again “aahun aahun”. A husky voice in American accent pouted something. The decade long stint of my phone was always entitled to communicate in hindi/hinglish therefore it couldn’t even decode a single word of that accent. The voice was like Amitabh Bachaan minus American accent narrating the prologue of some b-wood flick. I was about to disconnect thinking of the credit card or some insurance baskies until I figured out the word “twitter”. Without the flex of any neuron the whimsical figure of Mallika Sherawat reminiscence from the museum of my past, eclipsing my temple. A fresh unleash of blood pumped out of my heart electrifying my skeleton. I was feeling like a newly married groom who is just minutes away from entering the room at his first h-moon, unable to control the titillation. The train of dirty thoughts finally boarded at the station when a cocky voice (yeah u know the arrogant emo type americans) uttered “you are the winner of twonnet(poem) contest”; err giving me the blinding glimpse of the conspicuous. Given the naughty americans love for three (I mean the digit 3), he went on pouting that she will call you right after 3 minutes and you will be allowed to talk for only 3 minutes as she is tired and will go to sleep after 3 minutes. Given my precociousness, I intervened him “who are you, what’s your name.” He retorted back William, I am her American brother. My past experience of listening to rather most humiliating line for the adolescent India “All Indians are my brothers and sisters” made me grinn, wow the Americans follows the same suit. After hanging up my phone a juice poured out of my cerebrum “In USA does brother tantamount to a bodyguard?” yuck pseud Americans, I mumbled.
Through one of my sense which comprise of lens saw a train of yellow buses (the heritage buses) beaconing which had always vexed the college road hence like a vagabond I started searching for a tranquil lane. For the first time I found myself unperturbed, don’t know the exact reason probably I was chewing a gum which was like a sedative for me (or may be chewing a gum is always cool atleast infront of the femmes).After exactly four minutes (four??) saifu sang again and with that my adrenaline gland doubled its secretion with the purest of hope that a sensuous cum voluptuous voice of Indian accent will produce sound wave in my labyrinth. But as my destiny is linked with conspiracy, instead of the blessed damsel, William brother (wow that rhymed with William sisters) again regurgitated the same threesome lines. Finally he said ‘I am bringing her on the line and she is all yours for three minutes’. The latter part of his sentence made me intellectually bankrupt hence misting up my gray cells for seconds. The relentless bombardment of dirty thoughts finally halted when Malikaye Hindustan exuded my name juxtaposed with the Edison’s invented word Hello...
the conversation with MS in my next post...
Here is the TWITTER ANNOUNCEMENT and POEM